


the loyal and the wise

by citrina



Series: i never wanted anybody else [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bakoda - Freeform, Bakoda Fleet Week 2020, Coming of Age, M/M, Prompt: Young/Old Wounds, ice dodging, the inherent romance of being chased by a mammoth squid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrina/pseuds/citrina
Summary: Hakoda and Bato go ice dodging, and things go a little awry. 27 years later, they recall the incident.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Hakoda/Kya (past)
Series: i never wanted anybody else [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852534
Comments: 13
Kudos: 105
Collections: Bakoda Fleet Week 2020





	the loyal and the wise

**Author's Note:**

> Bakoda Fleet Week Day 2: Young/Old Wounds
> 
> Here is my day two oneshot. This one is set when they are 14 years old and Hakoda is ice dodging. I recently rewatched the episode where Sokka ice dodges with Bato, and this sort of just materialized. I headcanon that before you ice dodge, SWT boys are introduced as x, son of y and z, but that after they ice dodge they are just x of the Southern Water Tribe. There's absolutely no basis for this other than the fact that I think it's cool.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or any official affiliated content. If I did, then The Boulder would've been in the show more, because he's hilarious and deserves it.

When he turns fourteen, Hakoda chooses Bato as one of his ice dodging companions. This is no surprise to either boy, as when Bato had turned fourteen the season before, he’d chosen his best friend as one of his members, too. It’s also no surprise to the rest of the village. Bato and Hakoda have been thick as thieves since their first meeting as children.

They head out to the icy shore together, shoulders pressed together despite the layers of fur coats between. Bato can almost feel the nerves pouring off his friend, who’s even more skittish and chatty than normal. Bato isn’t worried, even if Hakoda is. He’s never met a more natural leader, or a better navigator, than his best friend.

“Since it’s autumn, hopefully the worst of the ice will have spread a bit, but I’ll still have to be careful,” Hakoda rambles, waving one gloved hand for emphasis. “Though the weather hasn’t been as warm as usual this year. Oh, I hope there’s no--”

“Hakoda, stop,” Bato interrupts, grabbing his friend’s hand from midair. Hakoda freezes and looks up at Bato with wide blue eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

“How can you be sure? My dad said the winds will determine our course, but I hope I can make it into that pass by the mammoth-squid dens… it doesn’t seem fair that Siluk will get to do this in summer when there’s hardly any ice floating around when we both have to do it right after the ice breaks.”

“Hakoda,” Bato laughs, “You worry too much. You’re the best navigator I know, and you did great during my trial. It’s just the same, only you call the shots this time. You love being bossy.”

“Hey!” Hakoda whaps Bato’s arm gently, but he’s grinning. His smile is grateful and relieved, and Bato feels a smile of his own creep onto his face. Despite the frigid air, he feels warm. They’re almost at the dock; Bato can see Hakoda’s father, as well as their third crewmember and friend Siluk, waiting for them. 

Hakoda’s father begins the ceremonial speech, the same one Bato’s uncle had given to Bato a few months ago. It’s all about “the transition into adulthood” and how Hakoda will become “a man of the tribe” once he’s completed the ice dodging trial. Bato doesn’t feel much more of a man than he had before he turned fourteen, but he supposes tradition transcends logic at times. 

Ice dodging trials can take any route as long as you start and end at the village, and the adult conducting the trial deems it long enough. Bato has no idea which route Hakoda is planning, but he’s sure it’s unorthodox and wildly clever. They’re beginning at the western dock of the village, but since nobody else is here, Bato suspects they’ll end up somewhere else. As they climb into the boat, Bato glances over at Hakoda. His face is pale with nerves, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Bato flashes him a little thumbs-up and Hakoda manages a smile back. Something in Bato’s stomach curls happily, pleased as always to be the one to cheer Hakoda up.

“Hakoda, my son,” Hakoda’s dad intones, “Your ice dodging trial is about to begin. Your chosen companions are Bato of the Southern Water Tribe, and Siluk, son of Palluk and Inua. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Hakoda says. His voice doesn’t shake.

“Then you may begin,” his dad says, sitting cross-legged at the bow of the boat.

“Alright, Siluk, you take the jib, and Bato, you take the mainsail,” Hakoda orders. Both boys rush to their positions. “I’ll steer.”

And then they’re off. Hakoda’s nerves quickly vanish the further out they get, melting away like powder snow in summertime. His orders are sure and the waters are fairly calm, so they navigate with ease. Hakoda’s eyes are clear. It seems, thinks Bato, that his friend had nothing to worry about. 

He thinks wrong.

.oOo.

Hakoda steers them through the fishing waters easily, past the ice floes where he and Bato used to play warriors and practice throwing boomerangs and spears. They’re nearing the mammoth-squid dens that Hakoda had mentioned earlier. He expertly squeezes the boat between two large chunks of ice, heading straight for the dens. If they can navigate past the dens, there’s a pass that allows for boats to pass right through to the outskirts of the village. Usually, mammoth-squids terrorize the pass, making it impossible for boats to get through. 

However, Hakoda clearly has a plan. As they near the dens, he doesn’t falter, even when Siluk trips on a pile of rope trying to cross from one sail to the other. Bato almost wants to ask Hakoda what’s going on -- doesn’t he know that if they disturb a mammoth-squid, it’ll smash the boat to bits? -- before he realizes that it’s autumn. Mammoth-squids hibernate from early fall to early spring; if none are awake, none will attack. It’s a creative, ingenious plan, Bato has to admit, even if it’s not the traditional ice dodging route.

They sail closer, dodging the ice floes neatly. Bato’s hand is steady on the rope. Hakoda’s openly grinning now. They lock eyes, and Bato grins too.

They sail in.

The pass is narrow and surrounded by high walls of ice, casting eerie blue shadows across their faces. The walls are lined with deep caverns, too large to see the end of. Mammoth-squid tunnel dens. There’s not much ice floating around, and Hakoda steers them silently through the pass. He looks serious and more grown-up than Bato’s ever seen him, his back straight and eyes sharp. The lack of wind means they move slowly, drifting with the current.

Out of the corner of Bato’s eye, something twitches. He reacts only a moment later than Hakoda.

“Mammoth-squid!” Hakoda shouts, voice echoing around the cavern. Suddenly, a huge, hairy tentacle swipes across Bato’s vision, momentarily disorienting him. Hakoda’s voice brings him back. “We need to move!”

The mammoth-squid is approaching fast, using its tentacles to drag itself out of its den. Bato’s never seen a mammoth-squid up close; it’s massive, with huge white tusks sprouting from either side of a furry face and eight powerful tentacles slapping at the ice as the mammoth-squid gives chase. 

Hakoda, Bato, Hakoda’s dad, and Siluk frantically scrabble for purchase as the mammoth-squid slams one tentacle into the water, sending a wave that pushes them forward. Bato lands hard against the aft of the boat, his hip slamming painfully into the rudder and scraping against it. He barely avoids crying out in pain. His vision swims as the boat rocks dangerously.

“Use the momentum! Bato, rudder!” Hakoda orders, seemingly unfazed as he grabs the mainsail rope. Bato’s terror and pain nearly make him forget himself, but he grabs the rudder and steers them towards the end of the pass. He can see the edge of the village up ahead.

“Siluk! I need you on the jib! We’re switching roles!” Hakoda yells. Siluk stands unsteadily, but the mammoth-squid is still close behind them. For some reason, it’s still not in the water, but its tentacles and trunk are raised in front of it as if to ward off their boat. 

“It’s acting weird!” Bato shouts at Hakoda. “Why isn’t it swimming?”

“I don’t know, but we’re not sticking around to find out!” Hakoda shouts back. Siluk grabs the jib rope and they narrowly dodge a chunk of floating ice. Bato yanks the rudder towards him, his hip throbbing at the sharp movement. They sail out of the pass and into the open water, the village just ahead. 

Now that they’re past the dens, it seems that the mammoth-squid is unwilling to follow them. Since they can’t swim in shallow water, mammoth-squids rarely come near the village. They sail swiftly towards shore, where Hakoda’s family and friends are waiting. He’s a popular boy, so there’s a small crowd that watches them dock. The spectators take in their wet clothes and hair, and the way Bato is holding his side to stem the blood from his hip, sticky through his coat. His heart won’t stop racing, even though he knows the mammoth-squid is long gone.

They dock and clamber off the boat. Hakoda’s father looks a little green at all the chaos, but he stumbles over to where he’s prepared the face paint for the marking ceremony.

“The spirits of water bear witness to these marks,” he says, swiping two fingers through the thick blue paint. The three boys line up. Bato chances a look at Hakoda, whose face is stony and unreadable. His heart sinks in sympathy. Even though they technically passed the trial -- all you need to do is get the boat safely back to the village -- Bato knows this isn’t what Hakoda had predicted or hoped for.

“For Siluk, the mark of the flexible,” Hakoda’s dad says, painting a wiggly shape on Siluk’s forehead. “Your ability to change roles in crisis ensured the safety of us all.”

He moves on to Bato, dipping his fingers into the paint again. “For Bato, the mark of the loyal,” he says. Bato feels him draw the smooth arc above his brows. “Your trust and faith allowed Hakoda’s leadership to shine.” Then he turns to the last boy, his son.

“And for Hakoda, the mark of the wise,” he says, painting an arc with a dot on his son’s forehead, like a third eye opened. “Ingenuity and quick thinking are the greatest strengths of a warrior.”

“But I almost got us killed!” Hakoda protests, his hard-faced expression breaking. He looks so sad, and Bato is seized with the urge to grab his friend and hug him. To tell him that he even though yes, he got them into a mess, he also got them out. To tell him how much Bato admires him and his cleverness, how Bato wants nothing more than to hold him and--

Wow. Where did that come from?

“While that is true,” Hakoda’s dad argues, “Your level-headed leadership also saved us.”

“It’s true,” Bato finds himself saying. “Most people wouldn’t have been able to think straight while being chased by a mammoth-squid, but you led us like a true warrior.” His head is swirling as he says it, analyzing and reanalyzing all the interactions he’d ever had with his friend. There are so many, and all of his memories are tinged with a remarkable fondness he realizes, now, has always been reserved only for his best friend.

“Thank you, father. Thank you, Bato and Siluk.” Hakoda turns away, wiping the mark off his forehead. “But I don’t deserve this mark.”

“Of course you do!” Bato is suddenly furious. Does Hakoda truly not see himself the way Bato sees him, clever and instinctive and a great leader? His own passion surprises him.

“You got hurt, Bato! Don’t think I didn’t see you holding your hip when we came ashore.”

“So what? I’m fine,” Bato says. What did Bato hitting his hip on the stupid rudder have anything to do with Hakoda?

“If I was a better leader, you wouldn’t have been hurt. If I was really wise, I wouldn’t have taken us into the mammoth-squid pass at all.”

“You thought they were all hibernating! It was a genius move, only there was something weird about that mammoth-squid that chased us,” Bato argues back. 

“It wasn’t a risk I should have taken!” Hakoda is yelling now. “There’s a reason we don’t use the pass for fishing, even when they’re hibernating!”

“I’m telling you, it’s not your fault!” Bato shouts. Abruptly, he realizes everyone is staring at them, and he stops short. Bato is usually quiet and stoic, especially around a crowd. Embarrassed by the audience, he’s unsure of what to do.

“I’d never have forgiven myself if something worse had happened,” Hakoda says softly. His voice shakes.

He seems so far from the bold, confident leader he’d been only minutes before, directing the boat away from ice and mammoth-squids. Bato aches for that boy to be back. Bato watches as Hakoda pushes away from the mass of people, his head down. The crowd parts for him.

Even like this, the tribe still bends to his will. 

Hakoda the Wise of the Southern Water Tribe walks through the village alone. 

.oOo.

Bato emerges from his favorite snow leopard-caribou pelt blanket, still feeling icy to the core. Hakoda’s reaction to the marking ceremony, and to Bato’s injury, left him more confused than ever, and he can’t sleep. His freshly bandaged hip twinges as he rises. 

After the disrupted marking ceremony, the crowd had dispersed, and word had spread quickly across the village. Hakoda’s easy charisma and good reputation had made his ice dodging trial highly anticipated, even for people who didn’t know him very well, so it was juicy gossip that he’d renounced his marking, and therefore his title and adult status.

It’s the middle of the night, and the whole village is asleep. Bato slips out of his igloo, careful not to wake his mother, and makes his way down the road to Hakoda’s. Light snow is falling gently, covering the village in a new white blanket. 

Bato spots Hakoda sitting outside his igloo on the ground, idly building snowballs and letting them drop and crumble. In the dark he looks like a spirit or a spectre, otherworldly and unapproachable. 

Bato approaches. He sits down next to Hakoda, careful not to wince and remind Hakoda of the injury. Silently, he pulls Hakoda into a hug. After a moment, Hakoda returns the hug, arms wrapping tight around Bato. They sit there for a long time, without talking, Hakoda’s face buried in Bato’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, you know,” Bato whispers finally, breaking the silence. “You still passed. You’re still a man.”

“I don’t feel like a man,” Hakoda admits softly. “I feel like an idiot and a failure.”

“Can I tell you something?” Bato shifts, letting his arms drop. Immediately he longs for the warmth again, but the moment has passed. “I don’t think anyone really feels like too much more of a man after their ice dodging, even if it goes smoothly.”

“I thought I’d be, I don’t know, so much more confident in myself if I did well,” Hakoda says. “That it would show everyone that I’m a man, even if I don’t feel any different.”

“Hakoda, the side of you I saw today,” Bato starts, trying to formulate how he’d felt in that pass, terrified and hurting, seeing his best friend lead them to safety. “I don’t think any man could have led us better than you did.”

“I made a bad call,” Hakoda says. He wipes his eyes, clearly trying to prevent the tears from falling. “We were in really bad danger, because of my bad choice.”

“You know what I thought, when I realized that we were going into the mammoth-squid pass?” Bato pauses. Hakoda shakes his head. “I thought, wow, this plan is genius.”

“But it didn’t work,” Hakoda says, even though he cracks a small smile at the praise. Bato’s heart does a complicated dance in his throat at the sight.

“It should have,” Bato responds. “But that’s not really the point. Anyone could have gotten us into that mess. But only you could’ve gotten us out.”

“That’s not true,” Hakoda argues, but the fight in his voice is weak. 

“It is. Can you imagine if Siluk had been leading? We’d have been mammoth-squid lunch for sure. But you kept your head, just like a real warrior in a battle.”

“Don’t be mean,” Hakoda says. “I’m sure Siluk would manage us to be the mammoth-squid’s dinner at least.”

Both of them smile at that. Bato screws up all the courage in his body, and hugs Hakoda again. This time, Hakoda leans right into the embrace.

“Thank you, Bato,” Hakoda whispers.

“You’re gonna be a great warrior, Hakoda. You’re already a great leader.” Bato tries to put as much of what he’s feeling into his words, but it’s not enough. As he squeezes his friend, though, he hopes he gets it anyway.

.oOo.

Hakoda and Bato are a long way off from fourteen, now. A lot’s happened in the past twenty-seven years since then. A wife, two kids, a raid. A war, a burn, a separation. A reunion, an invasion, an imprisonment, another separation. And finally, an ending.

They are lying shirtless on the bed in Bato’s chambers, lazily trading kisses and tracing each other’s bodies with careful fingers. Hakoda knows every inch of Bato from a distance, but it is still new to touch freely. He lets one finger slide across the corded muscle of Bato’s abs, admiring the smooth, tan skin beneath the burn scars that cover much of his torso. His finger stops on Bato’s left hip, where a faint white scar, barely a ghost of a scrape, curves sneakily into the fabric of his trousers. A memory swirls, uncertain, to the surface of his mind.

“What’s this from?” Hakoda asks, pressing the scar a little. Bato chuckles.

“You don’t remember? That’s from your fateful ice dodging trial.”

“I can’t believe that left a scar,” Hakoda says. “Actually, I can’t believe I’ve never seen it before.”

“I kept it hidden for a long time from you,” Bato responds. “I thought it might make you feel guilty about what happened.”

“I did, still. I felt terrible about that for so long.” Hakoda says, reminded of the dense guilt that had settled in his stomach for weeks after the trial, the regret at choosing such a foolish path and allowing Bato to be hurt.

“I know, but you had no need to be. I never resented it in the slightest. It’s funny, actually,” Bato says, shifting to face Hakoda directly. “That day is when I first began to see you as more than just a friend.”

“Wait, what?” Hakoda scoots back to make eye contact. “But we were, like, fourteen!”

“Yes…? I thought I told you I’d known how I felt for a long time.”

“But not that long! That’s forever,” Hakoda says, a little in awe. “You liked me, all that time?”

“Yes,” Bato says. “I loved you for years before you loved me.” He says it matter-of-factly, like Hakoda hadn’t unintentionally been hurting him for years, for over two decades. Like he hadn’t watched Hakoda get married, start a family, and nag him to do the same, for all that time. Hakoda wonders how many times he’d broken his best friend’s heart before he finally figured it out.

“I never knew.” Hakoda traces the scar again with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“You got there in the end,” Bato says, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. “And before you say you’re sorry for hurting me all those years, you didn’t. I was sad, of course, that you didn’t see me the same way I saw you, but seeing you happy with Kya and the kids was enough.”

“Still, though. Was that why you never married?” Hakoda remembers all the times he tried to push his friend together with every girl in both their village and others, only for Bato to shrug and ignore his attempts.

“I think I would have, if it was more acceptable for men to marry each other,” Bato says. “It would’ve been frowned upon, and I didn’t want to stir up trouble. Also, I never found someone I was willing to devote my life to, knowing you were right there.”

“So you’ve never wanted a woman?” Hakoda can’t imagine that. His interests have never, seemingly, taken gender into account; he loved Kya, of course, but if she’d been a man he’d still have married her, damn the consequences.

“No. I only ever truly wanted you,” Bato says. “I never much cared for anybody else.”

“You swear I never prevented you from happiness?” Hakoda asks. He doesn’t think he could bear it if he had denied Bato love all those years.

“Never,” Bato reassures him. “After all, my title is Bato the Loyal. I could never have been happier than when I was standing with you, no matter where I stood.”

**Author's Note:**

> How did I do? Please comment and let me know your thoughts! Visit me on tumblr at chief-yue.tumblr.com!


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